


Fine Art

by ArcticLucie



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Art history nerd!Rick, Boys In Love, Developing Relationship, Gift Fic, M/M, Michelangelo was gay, Secret Relationship, school bus hand jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 10:50:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7974082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticLucie/pseuds/ArcticLucie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a class trip to the art history museum, Rick clashes with the annoying tour guide. But that's okay, he'd rather sit on the bus anyway, especially when his <i>not</i>boyfriend Daryl gets sent out to join him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fine Art

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MermaidSheenaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidSheenaz/gifts).



> To my wonderful friend and muse, Sheenaz on your birthday. I'm so happy I get to celebrate another with you! May the whole day be as joyous as our all-night after party!!
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! <333
> 
> And also a special thanks to Tiofrean for beta'ing this. <3

Rick scanned the plaster replica of the statue of _David_ , frowning as his eyes hovered over its groin. He would’ve expected this kind of treatment from a children’s museum, but at a well-respected museum of art? It was a slap in the face to anyone who had any appreciation for fine art.

“What is it?” Shane asked as he nudged him with his elbow.

“This ain’t the statue of _David_ ,” Rick replied, catching the ear of their group’s docent.

“No, the original is located in Florence, Italy,” Gareth said, his eyes housing a bit more condescension than Rick would’ve liked. And the winner for worst tour guide goes to the Doucheface.

Rick tilted his head in challenge. “At the Galleria dell'Accademia di Firenze, to be exact. And that ain’t what I meant. Michelangelo’s statue doesn’t have a gaudy lookin’ fig leaf covering up his dick.”

“Richard Grimes,” Mr. Greene admonished.

“Sorry, _penis,_ he corrected.

Rick heard Michonne and Andrea giggling behind him, but he didn’t point it out for the laughs. He intended to go to college for Art History after high school and had made his mother buy the family membership passes to the small art museum back home every year. But this was the big city; he expected a little more class from a place like this.

“We hang up the fig leaf during the school tours. No need to offend the impressionable youth,” Gareth explained.

Rick shook his head in disapproval. He’d seen more dicks in the locker room at school then he ever had at a museum, and don’t get him started on all the porn he’d consumed last week alone.

Gareth leaned over the railing and removed the leaf.

“Well, at least y’all didn’t circumcise him.”

Rick’s eyes unconsciously flitted over to his _not_ boyfriend. Daryl’s arms flexed as he leaned over the railing, his phone held out as he snapped several pictures of the statue’s genitals. He had it on good authority that Daryl was also uncut—that authority being himself since he’d gotten a pretty decent look at it last night before he’d sucked him off.

Rick had asked him about it some time after they started their little whatever it was they had. After some prodding, Daryl told him the story of his birth in a small cabin in the backwoods. His grandmother had delivered him, and he guessed she hadn’t seen the need to mutilate his dick, which Daryl considered a good thing. She might’ve ended up cutting the whole thing off seeing as how much ‘shine she drank on average.

“Damn, he’s hung like an ant,” Shane cackled, making a show to squint at the statue.

“Walsh, that’s your second warning,” Mr. Greene said.

“Ants do not have penises,” Eugene interjected. “That is a mammalian term. Insects, including ants have aedeagus, which is inserted into the queen’s abdomen to deliver spermatophores during copulation. That is assuming they aren’t a species that reproduce through parthenogenesis. Interesting fact... ”

"Partheno what?" Shane whispered.

"Lesbianism, Shane," Andrea replied.

"Lesbian ants," Michonne added, resting her chin on Andrea's shoulder as they smirked at him.

Rick had known Shane long enough to recognize the glazed look on his face. He was going to spend the next ten minutes working out the logistics of lesbian ant sex before giving up and moving on to fantasizing about Andrea and Michonne. At least he thought it was a fantasy, but he had no idea where Shane snuck off to last night. Not that he really cared.

Mr. Greene looked equal parts humiliated and furious when he managed to end Eugene's discussion on ant reproduction. “Thanks for the biology lesson, Eugene, but this is an art museum. I apologize for my students, Gareth. Please continue the _art_ lecture.”

“As I was saying, the statue of _David_ … ”

Rick tuned Gareth out at that point. He hadn’t seen the _David_ in person, but he’d seen pictures of the original online, and this cheap imitation didn’t even do them justice. His concentration returned to Daryl who had moved around to the back of the statue to snap several pictures of its faux marble ass.

“In conclusion, Michelangelo was a master of the human form,” Gareth said as he moved them onto the next statue.

Rick had a good laugh at that, which apparently Gareth didn’t approve of. 

He paused his lecture and looked Rick dead in the eye, a pretentious glint in his own. “Is there something else you’d like to share with us, _Richard_?”

“Michelangelo was a master of the _male_ form. I’d bet money he’d never seen a naked woman in his life. He even hired male models to pose for his female works,” Rick replied. 

He swore he saw Gareth’s eye twitch. “I’ve done years of research on Renaissance artists including Michelangelo for my dissertation, so I think my information is more accurate than that of a teenager trying to impress his friends.”

“Have you seen his statues of women? They look like dudes with really bad boob jobs, not even boob jobs. They look more like he glued them on as an afterthought. ‘Oops, women have those jiggly things, right?’ And he wrote homoerotic poetry to men half his age, to his male lovers. So no way was that guy straight. _No. Effen. Way._ ”

“I think that’s enough for you, Rick,” Mr. Greene said. “Go wait for us on the bus.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “History was hella gay, Mr. Greene. Ya can’t censor the truth.”

“Do I need to call your mother to come get you?”

He scoffed as Mr. Greene waved another chaperone over to escort him to their bus.

Otis the bus driver opened the door when he reached it, and he climbed in, moving to his seat in the back. He had looked forward to visiting the art museum since he heard about the class trip, but he’d rather sit on the bus than listen to an idiot maim the truth. Rick obviously knew more than him.

Fifteen minutes later, the door squeaked again as Otis opened it. “Looks like we got another miscreant.”

Rick looked up to see Daryl sulking down the aisle. He flopped down in the seat across from him and pretzeled his arms over his chest.

“What’d you do?” Rick asked.

“That prick told me ta stop takin’ pictures of the statues’ asses. So I took a whole bunch more. Then Mr. Greene took my phone.”

Rick couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s a damn art museum. Why aren’t we allowed ta make art there? Idiots.” Daryl kicked the back of the seat and sighed before he looked over to Rick out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, idiots,” Rick repeated, turning toward the window to hide his flushed cheeks. He had a feeling Daryl got himself sent back on purpose.

“Then I told ‘em you were right about Michelangelo and Gareth almost blew a gasket. Shane got a picture, said he’d send it to ya.”

They spent the next ten minutes laughing at pictures the rest of their group sent Rick on Snapchat. Shane informed them Gareth had gushed for ten minutes over an abstract painting that looked like a double-ended dildo. He kind of regretted missing that.

“I’m gonna go grab something for lunch. Can I trust y’all to behave, or do I need to take ya with me?” Otis interrupted.

“Like there’s anythin’ fun ta do around here,” Daryl huffed.

“We ain’t gonna cause any trouble,” Rick said, flashing his best smile.

Otis nodded. “Be back in ten minutes then.”

Daryl had his thumb between his teeth when he looked back over at him, but their eyes met, and the mischievous spark in Daryl’s denim blues gave Rick that fluttery feeling in his belly and sent heat pooling in his bones that he needed set free.

“Come on then,” Daryl rasped, his voice dropping into a low register that sent a shiver trickling down Rick’s spine.

He complied, moving from his seat onto Daryl’s. “Thought you said there ain’t anything fun ta do around here.”

Daryl could’ve told him to shut up, God knew he’d done it hundreds of times before, but instead he rolled his eyes and surged into him, lips meeting and parting for a scorching kiss. He felt Daryl’s tongue slip past his teeth, but once his surprise subsided, Rick met every lick, flick, and roll with one of his own.

Rick hadn’t kissed many people before. There had been Cindy in kindergarten, but he didn’t think that one counted. Then Amanda at his first high school dance, which was terrible, that one time with Shane in his tree house that they both agreed never to talk about, and finally Lori who he broke up with at the end of Sophomore year. 

But Daryl took the prize.

In the beginning, Rick pretty much held on for the ride as Daryl laid claim to every inch of him, but he’d learned to hold his own, matching Daryl’s twists and turns until he’d figured out just how to tear a moan from his lungs. Sometimes if felt like a game, both of them pushing the other toward the finish to see who did it best, but they’d have to leave that for another time.

Daryl gave a tug on his curls, and he let his head drop back against the seat. It gave him a chance to catch his breath as Daryl laid siege to his neck, popping open a few of the buttons on his shirt for better access. Soon his hand slid down Rick’s chest, leaving a trail of want in its wake. And right as he remembered how to form words, Daryl squeezed him through his jeans, his cock swelling under the attention.

“Fuck, ungh!”

He heard Daryl chuckle in his ear before the kissing resumed.

Rick wasn’t usually one to brag, but he’d gotten pretty damn good at unfastening Daryl’s jeans one handed. He thrust his hand into Daryl’s boxers to fist his dick, biting down on a chapped lip when Daryl hissed at the contact. A half-formed moan died in his throat when Daryl took him in hand, a few slow strokes wringing moisture from the tip of his cock.

His brain almost imploded when Daryl plunged his thumb into his mouth because he’d seen the glistening bead of precome before that wicked tongue devoured it.

A whine broke free of him, and Daryl smirked in response. “We ain’t got all day,” he said, voice rough with arousal, as he motioned to his lap with his head.

Rick gave one last pull on his dick and let go, fully intent to blow him, but when he turned around to get on his knees, Daryl rolled his eyes before grabbing him by the collar and hauling him up. “As much as I love yer lips on me, and as much as you love playin’ with my foreskin, I didn’t think we have time for all that, Rick.”

He would’ve blushed from embarrassment, but they’d had that conversation a time or two. So Rick just shrugged and straddled his thighs, letting the warmth of Daryl’s body wash over him. He wrapped his fingers around Daryl’s shaft and delighted in the way his lips parted from the pleasure. Rick took it as an invitation and leaned forward to kiss him, working to align the rhythm of the kiss to each stroke of his hand.

Daryl probably wouldn’t mind if it was all an uncoordinated mess. They had a time crunch to contend with after all.

“Jesus, fuck,” Daryl muttered, the grip on Rick’s hips tightening before he slid one hand around to paw at his ass. Rick did his best to rock forward, his cock seeking friction, but then Daryl slipped his other hand between them, and Rick couldn’t help but thrust into the tight circle encasing him when Daryl squeezed.

Rick felt the end drawing near, felt the familiar fire start to rage inside him. He much preferred to stave it off for as long as possible, but they didn’t have time to dawdle along. Not this time. It kind of harkened back to the beginning of their _not_ relationship when everything was a rushed blur in an attempt to avoid thoughts of doubt or God forbid, _feelings_ , but Rick thought they’d both started to move past that as of late.

He didn’t have much experience with relationships either, but whatever him and Daryl had was good, great even. A label wouldn’t change that.

Daryl spit into his hand and doubled his efforts, Rick rocking his hips as he tried to keep up. But then Daryl did some little twisty thing on his cock, fingers toying with the sensitive rim of the head, and between that and Daryl nipping at his collarbone, Rick let himself go. He sucked in a ragged breath, his muscle spasming as he spilt out into Daryl’s slick palm.

His forehead fell to Daryl’s shoulder, and after a moment’s hesitation, he stroked Daryl to completion, milking him through his orgasm until they dissolved into the same post-coital haze. Rick swallowed down the last of Daryl’s moans as he slumped against him, and the feverish pace they’d set a few minutes ago gave way to languid kisses and gentle caresses.

He always liked the coming down when they had a chance to enjoy it. Daryl looked different all sated and satisfied, sounded different too, and Rick loved getting to see him like that, full of bliss without a care in the world. Maybe after graduation they could take a trip together and never leave the hotel room. Or maybe they could go backpacking through Europe and see the _David_ in person. Then Daryl could take some proper pictures of that marble ass. 

Or he could just take pictures of Rick’s.

“Oh God, sorry!” Maggie squeaked. “So sorry!”

Rick shot up like a bullet, his heart pounding as he tucked himself back into his jeans before working on buttoning his shirt, but his fingers didn’t seem to want to cooperate.

“Christ, don’t y’all know how ta knock?” Daryl hissed, resituating himself as well.

“W-we didn’t know anyone got sent out yet,” Glenn said. “I guess y’all had the same idea.”

“And oh my God, I didn’t know y’all were a thing,” Maggie added, covering her eyes with her hands as she peeked through her fingers.

Daryl scowled at them. “Y’all didn’t see nothin’.”

“Just those hickies,” Maggie replied, covering up her chuckle with a fake cough.

Rick did his best to pull up his collar, his cheeks burning, but he had no idea where Daryl had marked him. They were usually more careful. “Y’all ain’t gonna say anything, are ya?”

“It ain’t our place ta out people,” Maggie said, looking to Glenn who nodded in agreement.

Daryl looked relieved. “Don’t need the sheriff thinking a Dixon seduced his kid,” he whispered.

“Who gives a fuck what my dad thinks?” Rick whispered back, returning to his seat as Glenn and Maggie cuddled up somewhere in the middle of the bus. “Besides, I clearly remember it was me who seduced you.”

“Keep dreamin’. It’s been five months and ya still can’t keep your mouth off my junk.”

It only shocked Rick a little that Daryl knew how long they’d been _not_ together. In fact, he was starting to think that maybe his _not_ boyfriend wasn’t so _not_ after all, but he’d wait and deal with that when they got back home.

Not long after Maggie and Glenn interrupted their moment, Otis returned. And shortly after that, a frazzled Mr. Greene herded the rest of the class back onto the bus. 

“Dixon, here’s your phone. I suggest you be more responsible with your subject matter next time,” Mr. Greene said, passing the phone back to him.

Just as the bus pulled out of the parking lot on the way back to the hotel, Rick received a text from Daryl followed by a picture of _David_ ’s dick.

[Daryl]: Poor guy really did have a tiny cock

[Rick]: nice ass though

Rick laughed to himself when Daryl sent an eggplant emoji next to an “O” and a picture of the statue’s ass.

[Daryl]: seen better ;)

[Rick]: Does that mean ur gonna cum 2 my room again tonight?

He looked over and saw Daryl roll his eyes at him.

[Daryl]: text me after Shane sneaks out

Yeah, he was definitely going to have to reevaluate that whole _not_ part.


End file.
